


but i know it’ll have to drown me, before i can breathe easy

by Aquaticnecris, Mighty_Huntress



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Child Abuse, Conditioning, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dehumanization, Dissociation, Fighting Conditioning, Idolization of Ladybug (but come on that's S.O.P. for Chat), Incest, Incredibly Appropriate Use of Fire, M/M, Nobetawedielikemen, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest, Rescue, Sexual Abuse, We wrote this instead of sleeping, we regret nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21605338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquaticnecris/pseuds/Aquaticnecris, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mighty_Huntress/pseuds/Mighty_Huntress
Summary: No messy, gasping breaths.  No tears.  No begging.  He never begs anymore.  Never pleads.  Just fades away.After all, toys do not speak.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Implied Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Implied Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Nathalie Sancoeur
Comments: 19
Kudos: 229





	but i know it’ll have to drown me, before i can breathe easy

He can hear the shouting from his room. His father did not often give into his temper; days like this were _blessedly_ rare. Not that that had ever saved him. Not that it _would_ ever save him. In moments, the shaking starts. Trembling, first his fingers, traveling up toward his shoulders, and he knows from _old_ experience that it will only get worse.

Well, it’ll get worse if he fights it.

For the first time in a long time, he considers fighting it anyway. He _tries_ to fight it. He could pretend he didn’t hear his- didn’t hear _Gabriel_ (not his father, not not _not_ -). Could pretend to have been too lost in his homework to notice. Only one more day. Not _even_ one more day, she’d be here within hours. Adrien can almost hear Plagg silently pleading for him to just _take that chance, kit,_ **_please_ **. 

Almost.

But Plagg’s not here and he’s already stood up without thinking, and now it’s too late. Maybe… Maybe it’s for the better? If Gabriel is angry with _him,_ it’ll be worse before he leaves. Right now, if he’s good, he can leave without any new bruises. Without any new cuts bleeding down his chest, staining new bandages that his Lady will cry over and have to waste time cleaning--

The shaking stops as he leaves his room, shirts abandoned before he even hits the doorway.

He has to stop to remove his pants, and distantly he hopes the delay won’t be noticed. Each step makes his ears ring, a roaring starting up as the office door comes into sight. He silently pleads for it to be closed, shut and locked. It isn’t his fault if he couldn’t get in, right? _(No. It’s_ **_always_ ** _his fault. Even when it’s not his fault, it’s his fault.)_

He stops, Marinette’s voice playing back in his head. _”It was_ **_never_ ** _your fault!”_

A shudder runs through him, realer than the door in front of him. His eyes hurt, as if he might cry. He hasn’t cried in years--no. That’s… that’s wrong. Just days ago, he’d cried in her arms, Plagg’s crackly voice telling her everything from next to his ear, and she’d _promised_ . She’d _promised_ him he’d be free _(_ _that she’d free him, save him, just as he’d been begging her to all along, without even knowing it himself_ _)._ Adrien couldn’t bring himself to believe it, but… Plagg did. _Chat Noir_ did. It was _his Lady_. So he let Plagg speak.

Gabriel’s voice drags him back to himself, loud even through the thick wood between them. 

Adrien swallows and steps up to the office door. It’s shut, but that’s no excuse. If it’s locked, that won’t be a good enough excuse either, but the decision would be made for him. His cold hand reaches out. Closes around the metal doorknob. Turns. 

**_Click._ **

Not locked.

He allows himself one more shudder, one more quiet moment of revulsion as he hits the point of no return. In his head, Adrien apologizes for not being strong enough to fight it. To fight _him._ Chat Noir shakes his head at that thought. Surviving _is_ fighting. She said one more day, _one_ more day, just one last day to pack anything important to him in a bag she gave him and give himself an alibi.

One more day of hell, and then he gets to leave.

Gabriel barely glances at Adrien, just jerks his head downward. No way out now. No turning back. Leaving _now_ ? After Gabriel had already seen him? Nothing _purr_ sonal but he’d rather avoid the beating.

( _Shut up, Chat Brain_.)

The desk is large, covered in neat stacks of paper and pens, solid wood… and just enough space beneath it for Adrien to kneel. He slips into place submissively. Eyes down, no sound, ignoring the chill of the room. 

For a moment, nothing happens. Gabriel just continues to listen to the voice on the other end of the call. But Adrien knows it’s too late to hope. Even if his fa- even if Gabriel waits for the call to be finished, and he rarely did, there would be no escape. 

He doesn’t know which is worse: the times when it’s immediate or the times when he’s left waiting.

This time he doesn’t wait long. The moment the barely-audible voice on the line finishes speaking, Gabriel snaps something he can’t hear over his own heartbeat, and gestures. A simple motion, but one that signals the worsening of his never-ending nightmare. _(_ _Not never-ending, it’s almost over--shut **up** , brain! Not helpful right now!) _

He wishes his mother was still here. He always misses her, but never more than times like this It never happened before she...

As his fingers mechanically undo the buttons of his owner’s pants, the world begins to grow quiet. Even his owner’s voice, not directed at him, fades into the background. The carpet under his knees seems distant, as if the ache belongs to some other body. Adrien fades into the distance, watching from behind his own eyes. 

The toy tugs its owner’s pants down, and leans forward. He doesn’t smell it. Doesn’t feel the warmth against its cheek. It’s not him. It’s not his body. It belongs to Gabriel. Adrien fades further, from distant watcher to nothing but mist.

Its owner never wanted him, anyway. Just the toy. 

Its lips part, allowing its owner’s tip to pass through. The toy cannot take his full length without added slick; extend tongue to provide. Close mouth. Suckle gently. Its owner likes that. Though he is impatient today; his hand comes to the top of its head and presses, forcing it to take more. It does not resist, throat relaxed from years of practice.

Settle into the familiar motion with ease. Take its owner’s shaft completely and without hesitation. The rhythm is simple: back and forth, in and out. Easy to remember, after it was punished for getting it wrong. It no longer gags when its owner fills its throat. It has learned to wait for him to finish and then pull back up and breathe in at the same time.

No messy, gasping breaths. No tears. No begging. He never begs anymore. Never pleads. Just fades away. 

After all, toys do not speak. 

They do not plead, do not cry, do not whine or disobey. Not unless they are ordered to.

Its owner tugs its hair to tell it to move faster. Each time, it pauses at the tip to remove each drop of pre-cum. Its owner does not groan, does not react in any way the caller might hear. He simply shifts his hips up and into its throat as it fulfills its purpose.

Time passes.

It does not know how long it spends sucking. ( _Toys don’t keep track of time_. ) Nor does it care. ( _Toys aren’t meant for caring_. ) Its owner thrusts up hard. He pushes his hand against its head to hold it still, and it relaxes its throat. The pulse of his cock quickens. Heat rushes down its throat. It swallows down its owner’s cum with only the slightest sound; nothing that would be heard.

( _He would be punished, if he was heard_. )

It doesn’t move a muscle, though its owner has stopped cumming and begun to go soft. If he wants it to pull away, he will pull its head away himself. He does not. It is left there for the duration of the entire call.

It drifts in the silence.

Far away, beyond the mist, its knees ache. Its owner is talking, but not to it. The mist tries to fade; something pulls it back into place.

“Toy. Dismissed.”

It pulls back, as ordered. Tuck its owner’s cock back into his pants. Work its way out from under the desk. Do not look up at its owner as it leaves the room. Put itself away in its room.

Wait, drifting in the silence.

Time passes.

The mist slowly fades from his head, solidifying into a distant watcher. The past... he doesn’t know how long, feels like a dazed dream. Unreal. But as he drifts closer, going from watcher to actually _Adrien_ , he knows it _was_ real.

He can still taste his fa- Gabriel’s cum on his tongue.

Making a face, he goes to brush his teeth. Plagg comes out from his hiding place and curls into the crook of his neck, now that it’s over. At least he wasn’t watching. At least no one saw. 

It’s better when no one sees.

It takes a _lot_ of toothpaste for him to feel... not clean, but less filthy. For the taste to leave his mouth. He’ll be punished for using so much- no he won’t. Can’t punish him when he’s not here to be punished. 

When he’s finally as clean as he can get, he checks the clock and promptly curses.

 _How did that take so long?_ Marinette will be here any minute to help him sell the excuse. ...To save him. It suddenly strikes home that _that was the last time._ That he’ll never be the _toy_ again. That in minutes, _his Lady_ _would be here to save him_.

He takes a moment to breathe.

When he feels a little steadier, he spends a few of those minutes gathering the last of his things into his school bag. So little of what he has is important to him; most of it, he had to _“earn_ _”_ , and he wants nothing to do with any of that. Plagg slips out the door with him, but goes a different way.

His kwami had said there was a _plan_ _;_ Adrien doesn’t think about it. He focuses on the clock in the hall, watching the seconds tick away. 

By the time Plagg returns, it’s time to go. He’d usually hide near the bottom of his bag, but the grouchy cat has been… clingy, lately. He phases into Adrien’s chest and curls up around his heart. The low purr he feels start up moments later makes him feel… precious. Cared about. Maybe even loved. He heads downstairs with a tiny smile playing about his lips.

The same heart Plagg’s presence lifted drops like a stone when he sees Nathalie at the foot of the stairs. 

She’s not waiting for him _(_ _he’s not that important_ _),_ but she sees him before he can hide. Pausing, she narrows her eyes at him, her usual “unimpressed with this waste of time” look on her face. Waiting to see where he’s going.

It’s okay, they have a plan for this exact scenario. 

He shifts his bag higher on his shoulder and walks down the stairs, not meeting her gaze. _(_ _“Who are you to look at me with those eyes?”_ _)_ Her eyes narrow further. Her sharp nails start tapping on the back of her ever-present tablet. But before either of them speak, the buzzer for the gate goes off.

 _Marinette_.

As he breathes a silent sigh of relief, Nathalie blinks and taps the tablet screen a few times. Her eyebrow raises and she looks back up. “You aren’t scheduled to go anywhere right now, Adrien,” she says. It sounds like a demand for an explanation, and it is.

Adrien bites his tongue to keep the soft, scared whine that wants to escape behind his teeth. 

He quickly reminds himself of the plan they’d worked out. Nathalie isn’t allowed to interfere with his grades, and they have a school project. A real one, even. Sure, they’d finished it already, but no one else knew that. Especially not his fath- _Gabriel_. 

And _especially_ not Nathalie.

“I have a group project due tomorrow. It’s really important. Most of my grade.” He cautiously walks past her towards the door. ( _Eyes down, no sound; eyes down, no sound; eyes down, no sound…_ ) 

He doesn’t make it.

She reaches out, hand gripping his shoulder--tight, too tight, _it hurts!_ But he can’t cry out, not when Marinette is so close. So he strangles the cry that tries to escape, hissing through his teeth. He can’t pull away. Oh, she’d love it if he did, so she could do worse. “You’re supposed to put such things on the schedule.”

He hears the silent _“toy_ _”_ that she means but doesn’t say.

Plagg’s distressed purring picks up a notch, enough that if his Lady put her ear on his chest she’d be able to hear him. He focuses on his vibrating heart to speak past his painful shoulder. “L-last minute addition; we thought we w-were done, but we’d f-forgotten some- _thing!_ _”_ He gasps the last word as she squeezes tighter.

Nathalie lets him squirm, for a moment, and then hits the button to open the gate. “Well then. Go on, Adrien. Be home on time.” 

The words themselves are innocent, but the glint in her eyes… A shudder just like before passes through him; if he’d been coming back tonight _(_ _ever_ _),_ he’d be bandaging himself up before morning.

But he’s not.

He slips out the door, quick and soft-footed as the cat he is, before Marinette has even made it through the gate. 

There she is. His savior. His _Lady_. He feels his shoulders relax as she smiles at him. That was it. The last time he ever walked out that door. The last time he’d ever walk out that gate. The last time he’d ever be a _toy_. She’d told him he’d never have to go back, and he never wants to. He’s not sure what Ladybug has planned, but he trusts her with his life. With his shame. With his _everything_. 

She’ll keep him safe.

If he can _ever_ be safe, it’s with her.

Behind them, a smoldering spark in a certain office flares to life just as he steps through the gate for the last time. He doesn’t notice.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Heartlines" by Florence + The Machine.  
> Catch Huntress' burst blogging at https://mira-jadeamethyst.tumblr.com/ !  
> (Aquatica's shy.)


End file.
